Sora no Otoshimono: Angel Hunters
by LinkinYM
Summary: A mercenary group of assassins, soldiers, and serial killers are hired by Synapse for one purpose; to kill all free Angeloids. But there may be more that what meets the eye... Rated T, because it's Sora no Otoshimono!
1. Intro: Blatent Discussion

Personal Message from LinkinYM: Well, it's been a while since I wrote online...yup. Been about a year since my last count. For anyone who actually did read my last work(s) and notice that two of them were gone...I express my sincere apologies. Just as a warning. This fic is really in my tier kind of a fic, so there won't be as much ecchi as Sora no Otoshimono. It's more or less oriented towards action. However, do note that this fic might hold heavy emphasis in describing my many OC's who will be introduced. In the very beginng of nearly each chapter, any new characters will be named at the top of the chapter. After I finish this fic, I will put a character listing on my main page and if possible, in an additional chapter of this fic. (I already have a 13 page long document for it...wow.) Yes...a lot of OC's will be introduced.

I apologize in advace for this chapter being so short, but since it's just an intro...whatever. Besides, publishing a chapter for me is a good opportunity for me to get off my lazy ass and actually write.

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of Sora no Otoshimono or any affiliated works in regards to the author. (Thank you Zoids Fanatic!)

Introduced Character(s):

- Mixim

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><p>"<strong>A future that we pick blindly, is destiny<strong>" - Translated line from Sora no Otoshimono Forte opening

**Introduction: Blatent Discussion**

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><p>"Well, it certainly gives the image that Synapse has been cornered into a rather…desperate situation, no?"<p>

The blue sky illuminating the outside of the hall was indescribable in any way, except for magnificent. Even though the hall that the sky could be seen from matched in elegance and beauty, the pearl-white pillars on the outer edge of the hall in ensemble with the white marble floor. Although it would be accurate to say that each of the tiles composing the floor were probably made of materials which were of higher quality than marble, it was irrelevant. At least, to Mixim.

"Mixim, I really do hope that you know why you were called here?"

The Sky Master looked down at the guest in their frequently vacant dining area, in a mixed sense of glee and anger. He was happy that the right individual for such a job was available to Synapse. But he was angry at the fact that such an individual wasn't a creation of Synapse in the first place.

"No, not in the slightest. I was hardly informed of the reason why an individual such as me was inquired to be here in the first place." Of course, this was a lie. Mixim, in his black suit and white tie, knew very well the exact reason why he was called. He just simply found a slight sense of amusement in having the Sky Master admit what he was doing.

Mixim and Synapse never really did have good relations.

The Sky Masters were all obsessed about being able to control everything, from Angeloids all the way to weaponry. However, Mixim was able to manipulate the one element which they were never able to successfully control; Time and Space.

Although this was only one of the reasons why he was hired, Mixim knew better than to trust Synapse.

"Of course." The Sky Master tried a different approach. He quickly snapped his fingers, obviously motioning for service.

"Fetch our guest some refreshments."

Before the Entertainment purpose Angeloids could do anything to bring food and such to Mixim though, the latter lightly raised his hand, in a gesture to deny such service.

"I do hope that you do not mind so much, but please spare me the pleasantries. They are honestly speaking, meaningless and a rather pointless waste of my time." He rubbed the soles of his businessmen leather shoes against the cold, tiled, floor.

The Sky Master sighed. "Very well. We expect that you would be able to…"

Before he could finish his sentence though, Mixim raised a finger to silence the Sky Master.

"I never implied that I will be the only individual to be operating on this assignment. In fact…I will be assembling all of my comrades…for the first time in a century."

With that final parting word, the individual named Mixim started to walk away, his mask covering his content and slightly smug expression.

The Sky Master seemed slightly shocked at this revelation. Not only did he have to employ one individual outside of Synapse…but he had to employ at least three more?

So that he can convey his message, the Sky Master raised his voice.

"Mr. Mixim…I hope that you actually get this assignment finished…or the consequences will be severe for you."

Mixim stopped, in mid-pace. He promptly turned around, just so that he can face the Sky Master.

"On the contrary, Mr. Sky Master…I would like to voice my sincere message of caution to you, to not threaten any of my men. It would become a rather…explosive situation, if you pardon the expression."

With that, Mixim simply teleported to inform the members of the team; they just received a new job.

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><p>Read and Review. (Favoriting isn't bad either!)<p> 


	2. Chapter 1: Meeting Greg

If you noticed by now...I continued my "tradition" of starting each chapter with a quote. It gives a good idea on starting each chapter off. Also, none of the main characters from Sora no Otoshimono will actually appear until...about the 5th chapter. Just as a warning. I just wanted to place a lot of description on the OC's, since some of them are important for plot development. - LinkinYM

damn...i feel so high right now...

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Sora no Otoshimono or the original works as a whole. All that stuff. Thanks.

Introduced Original Character(s):

- Jericho Rodriguez

- Gregory James Anderson

- Victor Roget

- Wallace Heckler (Only minorly referenced)

- Siegel Crowe (Only minorly referenced)

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><p>"<strong>Oh wow. I'll give you a five out of ten for that. But I just wanna let you know that I'm including the four points for effort.<strong>" - Jericho Rodriguez

**Chapter 1: Meeting Greg**

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><p>"Wait, so why do I have to go get him?" Jericho Rodriguez was walking down the streets of New York, with the heat of the sun warming the back of his neck. His straight brown hair reached down to his neck, and although he had it tied in a small ponytail, his front bangs covered his forehead. He had a cell phone gripped in his left hand and pressed against his ear, while his right hand was in his pocket.<p>

"Because, Jericho, even though it will be nice to visit an old friend, I have my…conditions. You know that."

"But didn't Mixim tell you to go fetch him?" Jericho had a wide grin on his face, simply amused at how the situation was unfolding. He found a lot of things funny in life, a little bit more than what a normal man would. Such as good jokes. Or balloons. Or shotguns. And dead people.

"I'm pretty sure the Department of Defense wouldn't like a polka dotted extraterrestrial walking into one of their companies." The voice on the other side of the line sounded sly. But at the same time, a little lazy.

"Ugh…Siegel, my brotha, you're just lucky that I happened to be in the States for some finished business. About this time…" While he paused, Jericho checked his watch to know that the time was, he stopped at a street light, waiting for the light to turn green. After the light turned green, he resumed walking across the street "...I would be in the Shot Bar in London doing my job."

"Look, Jericho, I'm sorry that I had to ask you for this one favor…"

"I was just joking, man. I'm always happy to help a brotha out. But still, can't Victor come on his own?"

"He wanted to talk about something. I wasn't told about what he wanted to talk about, but it sure sounded important as hell."

"Well, well, well. That sounds interesting. 42nd street, you say?" The wide grin on his face grew even bigger, big enough to make the Cheshire Cat blush.

"Yeah, why?"

"I've just arrived." Jericho stood before a massive building.

The massive skyscraper was the headquarters for GeneTechCorporation. It was a massive biotechnology firm which was also a branch of research for the United States Department of Defence.

"Well, good luck. For whatever he wanted to talk about."

"Yeah, later brotha." *click*

While putting the cell phone in his pocket, Jericho lightly rubbed the Mac-10 hidden in his vest, making sure it's there. He quickly wiped the insane grin off of his face and gained a posture which he made as professional as possible.

_Here we go._

He walked up to the main entrance, where he stood in front of a black door, fitting in perfectly with the grey outline of the building itself. He knocked on it, to see if anyone would respond. Jericho would have put his hand on it, but the summer heat made it very hot to the touch.

_Metal, solid, about 8 inches thick. Probably bulletproof. It'd take a bazooka to get through this._

After a lack of response, he noticed a screen next to the door. It also had a number pad, with several colored buttons on the side. He tapped the screen, and a female voice spoke from the screen.

"Place your employee Identification Card onto the screen. Para repetir las instrucciones en español, pulse 1. Pour répéter les instructions en français, appuyez sur 2. Zài zhōngguó…"

As Jericho listened to the instructions, he understood what all of it said. Considering that he is a polyglot, he really didn't care for what the lady was saying. Instead, he only thought the following during the message.

_Oh god, I don't time for this shit._

"…If you are not an employee, or you are a visitor, please make sure that you have reservations or an appointment. For any questions, please press the yellow button, to speak to the front desk."

He jabbed the yellow button with his finger impatiently, and immediately another voice started speaking.

"Hello, this is the front desk for GeneTechCorporation, how may I help you?"

The voice has a distinct New York accent, and the tone implied to Jericho that the speaker was new to the job.

"Hi, I believe I have an appointment with Mr. Victor Roget? Ya' know, your boss?"

A slight pause and the sound of papers being flipped came out to the screen, and then the speaker returned.

"Sir, we have no record of anyone having an appointment with Mr. Roget. Are you sure you arranged an appointment with him?"

"Yup."

"I will check with him immediately, please hold."

When the speaker cut off, Jericho could hear "Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy" coming out of the screen, as some lobby music.

_Isn't it a little too early for that stuff?_

Just when Jericho was beginning to enjoy the music, it suddenly stopped and the speaker returned.

"I'm sorry Mr. Frank, I was not informed of your meeting with Mr. Roget. I will have the doors opened immediately." *click*

The heavy doors next to Jericho began to rumble and shake, then they smoothly slid out of the way so that the entrance was wide open. Right when he walked through, the doors immediately closed behind him.

_Well, well, well. This place is pretty big._

The lobby was extremely large, with glass tables adorned along the sides, workers casually holding conversations while eating on them. The walls were all made of polished stone, making the entire place have a very pristine feeling.

He felt slightly out of place, considering that everyone around him was either wearing a suit or lab coats, and he was the only one wearing a vest and jeans. He tried to make his presence as invisible as possible, and walked up to the front desk.

The front desk was made out of obsidian, and a blonde receptionist was sitting in a chair, almost hidden by a large computer screen.

_5'3" tall. B36-W24-H36. Wait, why the fuck am I getting these measurements in my head?_

He accidentally overheard a conversation from a passing businessman speaking to a fellow worker, "…yeah, that chick working at front desk is so hot."

_Glad I'm not the only one._

The woman at the front desk looked up, and immediately began speaking in a slightly rushed manner.

"I'm so sorry about the confusion at the front desk, I didn't know that you were friends with Mr. Roget…" The rest of the words she was saying were slightly lost to Jericho as he fazed out.

_Oh shit, I popped a boner._

"…If you will allow me, I will get you to Mr. Roget." She walked away from the front desk, and to a nearby elevator. Jericho quickly followed, while rearranging his pants.

The elevator doors opened, and when the two of them entered, she pushed the button for the 85th floor. The doors closed, and she held onto a bar on the side of the elevator.

"Please hang onto something, as the elevator will gradually travel at a rate of 5 floors per second, so to avoid waiting for a long period of time."

Jericho briskly nodded, and grabbed a bar next to him.

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><p>By the time the elevator stopped at the 85th floor, Jericho felt like he went on a rollercoaster. Sweat dripped from the side of his head as he stumbled out of the elevator.<p>

"Do you do this every time?"

The blonde receptionist simply nodded.

"Mr. Roget's office is straight down the hall to your right."

Right the elevator doors closed, Jericho threw up in a trash can next to him.

_That was the fastest elevator ever…holy shit._

He quickly wiped his mouth and walked down the hall, where crystal doors with golden handles awaited him.

After accidentally pulling of the handles off, Jericho decided to knock instead.

Knock, knock, knock.

A strong, yet slightly aged voice came from beyond the doors. "Please enter."

Jericho opened the doors and jumped in, while screaming at the top of his lungs, "I AM THE BATMAN!"

He quickly realized his mistake, as two guards in riot gear armor held two submachine guns tightly against his head. Along with an elderly man behind a polished wooden desk, three other corporate executives in suits were staring at him in dumbfounded expressions.

The elderly man, in thick glasses and balding grey hair, spoke with a strong articulate tone.

"I'm so sorry gentlemen, that is my nephew. I forgot he is coming today. Shall we continue this meeting at a later date?"

The three executives promptly left the room, all of them giving looks to Jericho as if he was plainly retarded.

The elderly man behind the desk motioned to the two armed guards at the door with his relatively aged hands. "Oh yes, you two. You can leave us."

"We will be waiting right outside the door, sir."

"Nonsense. Take a break, and that is an order."

"Yes, sir."

After the two guards left, Victor Roget got out of his chair and walked up to Jericho.

"Jericho, how are you? It's been far too long." He stretched his arms, and the two hugged each other.

"Yea brotha. Too, too, long."

After they let go, Victor opened a cabinet. Even though he was aged, he was still very limber and fast. He pulled bottle a bottle of brandy and two glass cups.

"I thought Mixim was coming." He inquired as he poured into the two cups.

"Mixim had to get the other guys, so he asked Siegel. Then Siegel was busy with something I really have no idea whatsoever, so Siegel asked me to go instead." Jericho explained, and downed a cup of brandy in a flash.

"Interesting. And I assume that you heard about the assignment from Mixim already, considering that he is the primary contact between us and Synapse?" Victor poured another round for Jericho, and walked over to a shelf and observed an Aztec arrowhead he salvaged over five hundred years ago.

"Nope. Mixim didn't tell anyone what the mission was about. At least, he didn't tell me."

Victor raised a gray eyebrow, while now observing a pearl the size of a fist which he got while diving. "He told me briefly. Not too specifically though, it seems that everyone will receive information on it simultaneously at a late time."

He turned around, and walked towards Jericho.

"Listen, Jericho. I have something to tell you, and I want you to convey the message to everyone else." Victor set his cup onto the edge of his wooden desk, making sure to place it where there weren't any important papers. "I am resigning."

"Oh that's great, that means you can spend more time with us."

"No, I mean I'm retiring from the team. For good."

Jericho gave bit of a giggle. "Geheheh. Nice joke, man, nice."

After Victor gave him a stare, Jericho realized. "You're no joking, are you?"

"No, I'm not. Jericho, unlike you, I am not immortal. I merely have an extreme level of longevity. And I'm afraid that the reaper is coming for me fairly soon."

"That's a bit of a morbid way to say it, yo."

"I want to live my last days in peace, not in the middle of war."

"Oh, I get'cha."

An awkward silence followed, and then Jericho jokingly said, "Then who's going to be the moral compass for our team?"

"It isn't all a loss. I have a recruit for the team."

"Wait brotha, I was joking."

"But I am not. Jericho," Victor turned around to face his old friend. "I only find it right, that if I were to leave, then someone must serve as my immediate replacement. Besides, I'm fairly certain he'll be suitable." He walked back to his desk, and pushed the intercom button.

Bzzzt. "Attention, Garret Shunman, report to the 85th floor at once. I repeat, Garret Shunman, report to the 85th floor at once."

Right when Victor lifted his finger from the intercom button, Jericho stood up from his chair.

"Brotha, I thought that the team runs one of those investigation thingies on anyone new. They did the same for me when I first joined."

"Yes, there was that rule. But the recruiting and the examination was primarily conducted by me, so I don't need to worry about that."

"'kay, just checkin'."

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><p>Several minutes later, a knocking could be heard from the door.<p>

"Mr. Roget, may I enter?"

"Come in!" Victor raised his voice and called to the person at the door. Only at that point, did Jericho notice, how well the room was decorated. There were paintings on the walls, a full scale copy of the Mona Lisa, several oak shelves full with books, a brick fireplace, and a large window, layered with bulletproof coating. Victor's desk had a phone, the previous intercom button, pens and papers everywhere, and a copy of the Declaration of Independence in the surface of the desk itself.

The man who entered the room had a light all-around trim, his hair being about an inch in length. Although the area around his ears was slightly shorter, his dark red hair had an odd streak of silver around his ear. He was 6 feet 2 inches in height, and wore a lab coat that went past his knees. His black leather business shoes matched with the black slacks he wore. His thin lips moved very little when he spoke, in great contrast to Jericho.

"Did you call for me, Mr. Roget?" His cheeks were thin, giving him a slight moody appearance, but his face was expressionless.

"Yes, and stop calling me that, call me Victor. And that is one of my associates, Jericho Rodriguez."

Jericho simply uttered, "Sup."

"Garret, Jericho will be getting you to meet the other members of the team you will be with. You understand that you will be serving as my replacement in their team from now on?"

"Yes sir. And about my income…"

"Your salary is taken care of. I have arranged for your regular salary to be directly wired to your account during your absence. You are to listen and learn from the other members of the team, you understand?"

"Yes, sir. And my real name is Gregory James Anderson, sir."

"I know. I had to put you in with a false name to ensure your safety while you are with the team."

"Thank you, sir."

Victor walked over to his desk, and retrieved two VIP passes. "Jericho, I arranged for a private jet to take you to your destination, along with Wallace and Siegel. Although I really don't like the former so much…"

"Aw damn man, why would you say somethin' like that to a good brotha?"

"Wallace Heckler is a sadistic psychopath who takes pleasure in torture and slaughter. Although I could list others worse than him…anyways, you and Gregory will be ferried to the airport by a helicopter, and you will ride the jet from there."

"Thanks brotha, I owe you one." Jericho motioned to Gregory, and the two of them started walking towards the door.

Victor spoke to them as they left. "Don't mention it. And Jericho,"

Jericho turned around as he was called.

"Make sure Greg there doesn't get into too much trouble."

Jericho nodded with a massive grin, which slightly disturbed Greg.

"Jericho, I hope you don't mind, but I need to speak some final words to Greg before you go. In private." Victor made a slight nod, and Jericho walked out of the glass doors.

Right when his former accomplice left, Victor turned to Greg with an abnormally serious look on his face.

"Greg. The content of what I am about to tell you is something you must take very, very seriously." Victor peeked out of the door to make sure that Jericho wasn't listening in on them. He then flipped a switch on the side of the wall, which activates a system which made the room impossible to monitor.

"The men you will be working with are not people with the greatest sense of morals. Some of them would even conduct genocides without even thinking twice. One of them conducted…things…which are unspeakably horrifying. I served as the primary 'moral compass' for the team, to make sure that they don't go seriously off track. You must understand that it's your duty now, to make sure that they don't commit serious wrongs. Am I clear?"

An awkward pause nulled the atmosphere of the room between them and after wiping his brow, Greg responded.

"Yes, sir."

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><p>Read and Review. (You know the drill.)<p> 


	3. Chapter 2: Party Tricks

Again, same as before. A lot of new chapters a coming out, hot off the...keyboard. I might update this chapter intro later...

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Sora no Otoshimono or the original works in regards to the author in any way...yup.

Introduced Character(s):

- Wallace Heckler (Officially)

- Siegel Crowe (Officially)

- Nomad (Referenced)

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><p>"<strong>So corrupt, the heart of man. Forever cursed with a dark hole, never to be satisfied...<strong>" - Anonymous

**Chapter 2: Party Tricks**

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><p>"So wha'd the old man say to ya'?"<p>

Jericho and Greg were both in a jet plane, already above the middle of the Pacific Ocean. The entire plane's seats were all first class tier seats, but they were drinking beer in the plane's lounge. The thin wooden table was already littered with a lot of cans of beer and bowls of peanuts.

"Nothing too important, just some stuff like 'good luck'."

Jericho's grin thinned a little, and looked outside of the jet plane's windows. The clouds looked like oceans of their own, and the gaps in the clouds only revealed the deep blue ocean below.

"Oh, damn. Can one of you guys pass me a dry martini with an olive? I'm thirsty as hell."

This voice belonged to Wallace Heckler, who just walked into the lounge after taking a nap. He rubbed his tattooed, bald head as he walked through and flung himself onto a couch. Being a particularly tall person, his three piece suit was specially tailored by himself to fit his style.

"Here you go. And a cigar to go with that."

"Oh, thanks! Owe you one for the cigar." Wallace gladly took the martini with glee, and lit the cigar with the inside of his jacket. He rubbed his eyes, which had diagonal scars around them. Although they gave him a very terrifying appearance, he was actually a pretty nice person at heart. Or at least, that was the appearance he gave everyone.

"Careful, you could light the entire the plane on fire. Of course, that would be pretty funny, but still...yeah."

The fourth voice now in the lounge, came from Siegel Crowe. He was the same person who Jericho was talking to on the phone earlier, and exactly previously stated, Siegel is a polka dotted extraterrestrial. He had milk-white skin, and he had black polka dots freely flowing across his skin, ranging from the size of a ladybug, to that of a tangerine. He also didn't have eyes, ears, or a nose. Despite these features though, he had absolutely no problem with his senses.

"Hey guys, we're arriving at our location in…half an hour." Jericho looked at his touch-pad, which showed a small digital plane nearing their location.

"Wait, guys. I don't even know where we are going."

"Hey, the newbie is talking." said Siegel in a slight humored tone.

"I'm still sleepy." A slightly muffled voice from Wallace came from the couch, where his face was still buried in a pillow.

"Brotha', where we are going…" Jericho turned his laptop around, to show a world map, and roared in an exaggerated dramatic tone. "…TO JAPAN! WEEEHOOO, YEEEAAAAHH! MUTHAFUCKA I FINALLY GET TO GO SOMEWHERE COOL!"

He sort of jumped right off of his couch at that point, and stumbled so much that he crashed into a cabinet. Although he didn't feel it or notice for a short while, his head was bleeding profusely.

"Um, Mr. Jericho…"

"Oh, c'mon man, don't call me Mister! Makes me feel a lot older."

"…your head is bleeding."

After realizing, Greg got his first aid kit and bandaged Jericho's head with professional skill.

Wallace, after raising his head from the commotion, noticed this and said, "Oi, you're binding him up pretty nicely. Are you a doctor?"

"Nope, I'm a toxicologist, microbiologist, and a neurologist. I just happen to have some medical skills."

"Oh. Well, wait 'till you meet Mixim. He's a pretty cool guy, considering that he can travel in time and shit like that."

"What do you mean by that?"

Siegel joined in the conversation. "Aw, come on now." he just looked at Greg with a smile, which was slightly terrifying, considering that Siegel literally didn't have any facial features except for his mouth. "We all have some things in common. There's no way that Victor got a guy like you in our team without a good reason. No offense."

"None taken. What do you mean by 'some things in common'?"

"Well, for one thing…actually, it's easier to show than tell." Siegel picked up a cell phone, and touched it. "Jericho, after I disappear, can you throw this cell phone across the room?"

"Yea' sure."

Greg was simply perplexed. _Disappear? What does he mean by disappear?_

_**ZWINK**_

Just then, Siegel just vanished into thin air. It was like as if he went invisible. Jericho then grabbed the cell phone and tossed it across the room. Right before it was about to land…

**_ZWINK_**

…and Siegel reappeared on the other side of the room, holding the cell phone in his hand.

"Wait, what? How did you, y-y-you were there, then you weren't there, then you were all the way other there…wha?" Greg looked very confused.

"I possess the ability to 'enter' any electronic equipment I desire. I can then travel safely inside it, so I pass detection relatively easily. Of course, I can always 'jump' from one thing to another, although it depends. Usually cell phones work the best." His slightly nonchalant manner of speech was able to hide the fact that he was only telling a part of the truth to him. The other snickered though.

"By the way bro, if you're wondering, Wallace has some pretty nice tricks up his sleeve. Literally." Jericho wiped off some excess blood on his head, and called to Wallace. "Oi, Wallace! Show Greg some of your tricks!"

"But I'm still sleepy."

"Dude, it doesn't take much energy for you."

"Oh fine. Geez." Wallace got off the couch, and walked over to Greg. "My ability is called 'Infinity Complex'. I can store objects inside me by bending dimensional space. There are some mathematics behind this, such as how I need to measure my body's minimum volume and after cubing it you need to…"

"Okay, okay, just show how it works." Siegel muttered impatiently.

"Fine. Heh…let the magic begin then." Wallace flipped his dark green bowler hat, threw it into the air, caught it underhanded, and stuck his entire arm into it. He reached into it and pulled out 4 fragmentation grenades, 2 Browning High Powers, 1 M16 assault rifle, and a RPG-7. All of this from the inside of a regular bowler hat.

Greg was simply amazed. There was practically no other way to describe his facial expression, other than completely bone-stupefied. "Well…I guess I'm not the only one…I'm still confused as to how you did that but..."

"Show us what you can do." Jericho grinned, and anxiously waited for him.

"Um…I'm not sure whether this is a real 'ability' or anything like that…"

Greg pulled a metal ball bearing out from his pocket and after flicking it with his fingers, it shot like a bullet and tore a hole through an empty can of beer.

Jericho's jaws dropped in astonishment. "Brotha, that…was…AWESOME! What was that, anyways?"

"I can hit any object with any trajectory, as long as if I can see the object I am hitting. Of course, the effectiveness of it can change depending on whether or not there are obstructions but…yeah."

Wallace was suddenly very interested. "So kid, you've got perfect aim?"

"Pretty much."

"Hmph. Let's see about that." Wallace looked very jealous and sulked away.

Greg leaned over to Jericho "Why's he so upset?"

"Wallace is, or before you came, was, the best shot in our team with nearly any weapon. This includes everything from derringers to things as big as flak cannons."

"Jesus, he can do that? I'm good with throwing stuff, but I'm sort of shit when it comes down to firearms."

Siegel jokingly poked his head into the conversation. "Just to tell you, my aim's probably the worst." He quickly pulled his head out.

"Trust me, compared to bros like us, Nomad's abilities far surpass our's."

"By the way, what's your ability? You have one, right?"

Jericho grinned, yet again. "That's a surprise."

"We will be arriving at Haneda Airport shortly. All passengers please return to their seats." The captain's announcement resonated throughout the lounge, and everyone immediately went back to their seats.

Siegel looked back towards everyone when they were in their seats. "By the way, we're going to be meeting with the other guys at a place called the 'Shinagawa Prince Hotel', along with our contact who will be providing our equipment." And he smoked his cigar so quickly that it turned into a stick of ash in an instant.

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><p>Read and Review! (and the other part...yup)<p> 


	4. Chapter 3: Reunion

Personal Message from LinkinYM: Hey guys, I'm back with a new chapter. I've been struggling to get over the writer's block I've been having for the past couple of months, in addition to various technical problems such as having to have to recover all of my old hard drive data. (Fortunately, most of the technical issues are fixed.) As a result, I had to purchase and entirely new laptop. Sorry about that.

I'd just like to add that I've updated my profile. So if you guys are interested, feel free to check my profile out. It'll probably answer a lot of your questions, since some people have asked some pretty interesting ones to me...

Anyways, this is the third chapter. Well, if you include the prologue, then it would be the 4th chapter but...you get what I mean.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sora no Otoshimono, or any thing else related to it except for this fanfic. All that jazz.

Introduced Original Character(s):

- Jericho Rodriguez

- Gregory James Anderson

- Wallace Heckler

- Siegel Crowe

- Amst-aaf ibn Clouts (a.k.a. Nomad)

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><p><strong>"Angels have wings. They could fly to anywhere in this world. So why do they stay with God?" - Anonymous<strong>

**Chapter 3: Reunion**

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><p>The suite room of the hotel was much larger than expected. In fact, it really gave an appearance that it was fancier than the amount of money that the hotel actually spent on it. But to the majority of the men there (with the exception of Jericho and Wallace who were just goofing off on the chandeliers), didn't mind the brilliant lights, or the fancy silk curtains that covered the glass windows dripping with condensation. They were gathered around a polished wooden table in the center of the room, with crystal cups of various sodas and beers on it.<p>

A man in a black pinstriped suit held a map of Japan in his hands, and he was pointing out locations with his pen. A faint German accent accompanied the instructions he gave in English, and he pushed his glasses up before resuming his explaining.

"…you have to take this route, all the way to here. Our kind contact, Mr. Yamazaki, has dropped off the shipping container with our equipment there." He then pointed to another location on the map, and marked it with a black X using a pen. "Any further questions?"

Siegel, with his natural intuitive personality, asked Mixim a question.

"Mixim, what about this circle? Is this another dropoff point?"

Mixim took off his suit, and after scratching his head, responded to Siegel's question. Mixim's brown hair was disheveled with hours of tiresome calculation and processing, his chin was already growing a stubble, and his hands were shaking from the cups of coffee he had just moments ago.

"That is the location where I will transport us to our clients."

"Okay, cool. But is everyone going there or what?" Wallace kicked back on his seat and while he put his feet on the table, he lit a cigar and gave it a good puff. The tip glowed and the ashes of the spent cigar dropped off and fell to the floor.

"I prefer that only three of our team will go. And I will not be accompanying them, as we need to make sure that we arrive at our planned location without much issues or troubles. And please keep your feet off of the table." Mixim rose and after straightening his suit, walked over to the windows and lit a cigarette. The faint glow of it illuminated his facial features, his German heritage showing clearly against the darkness outside.

Jericho ran in from the other side of the room where he was watching the television.

"Hey bros, they're doing a show about dugongs. Who wants to watch?"

After nobody responded, Jericho walked back to the TV in mock depression.

"On a side note, why don't we all introduce ourselves to the new kid. It's probably hard for him to talk to us without names to call us by." Wallace took out his handkerchief and wiped his hands, while gesturing to Greg to stand up.

He raised his bowler hat, and spoke. "Hey kid. My name is Wallace Heckler. I'm in charge of guns and stuff that shoot. That's about it I guess."

Wallace stepped back, and Jericho, who happened to hear all of that and ran in to the conversation, jumped forward with a queer amount of enthusiasm.

"Hi, I'm Jericho Rodriguez! And I'm here, to be the hacker and the general funny asshole of the team! And while you're at it, you can…" It was very clear to Greg at this point that Jericho was trying to mimic Billy Mays. He couldn't help but chuckle at his new friend's joke.

Siegel, however, just snorted, and began to mutter. "Why do we have to do this bullshit every time…" He reached into his suit. Mixim shot a glare at him, but Mixim didn't intervene. He didn't want to.

"On top of all of that fucked up shit, I'll make a pretty cool show of my powers later! Along with that…"

BANG

The unmistakable sound of a suppressed gunshot echoed, and moments later, Jericho fell forward like a sack of potatoes. Behind him, Siegel was still aiming a silver suppressed Beretta 92 at where Jericho was standing only moments before. His lips were curled in slight annoyance, and the dots on his skin were moving around significantly slower.

Greg, on the other hand, was simply horrified. Jericho was simply lying on the floor, silent as a brick. He started to back away from Jericho until he realized…that Jericho was snoring. He went from being horrified to just being confused. Again. "What?"

Siegel knelt next to Jericho and after poking him, pulled a transparent magazine out of his gun, and pushed a transparent round out of it. "This is a tranquilizer bullet. Sorry to scare you like that, but he sometimes goes totally out of control. Take a look." He tossed the bullet to Greg. The bullet was clear, and he could see the clear fluid encased within it. Greg pocketed it, and stood up.

"Anyways, my name is Siegel Crow. And I'm in charge of…low impact kinetic operations of this team. I like soap operas. That's all." With a nod, he stepped back.

"What kind of soaps do you like?" Greg inquired.

Siegel simply responded, "Tragedies."

Mixim turned around to look at Greg, and he approached him. "I am Mixim. Do not question my name, as I have no surname. I am in charge of all of the major and minor decisions made by this team as a whole and individually. In the sense of terminology for you humans, I am the commander in chief of this team." They immediately shook hands, and Mixim went back to the window. At that moment, he noticed something.

"Gentlemen. Have any of you seen where Nomad is?"

They all shook their heads. Except for Jericho, who was still sleeping.

A voice suddenly tore through the room. If felt silent, but at the same time, it felt eerily dominating. "I am here."

A figure, in a brown tattered cloak seemed to fade into existence, and was sitting in the air cross-legged. The cloak fell to the ground, and it revealed an individual who was wrapped completely in bandages, all the way from his head to his feet, exposing only the region from the top of his eyebrows (or lack thereof) to the top half of his nose. He wore light brown baggy pants, which were made out of what appeared to be burlap.

He lowered his legs, and as his feet touched the ground, he strode past Greg, and up to Wallace. He spoke in a noticeable accent of middle eastern origin, although of where nobody was sure of.

"Is it safe?"

"Yeah. I've got it, boss. It's in my suitcase."

"Good."

He turned to Greg, and looked at him. Greg noticed that the man's pupils, iris, cornea, and conjunctiva were all pale silver, but his sclera (the whites of a person's eye) were completely black.

"Are you blind?" Greg asked as he waved his hands in front of the man's face.

The man responded in his resonant voice. "Yes," And then he grabbed Greg's hands with a very tight grip. "But that does not mean that I cannot see, my child." The man never broke eye contact with Greg, and simply stared at him. The stare slowly turned into an impossibly cold glare, and his grip began to become painfully tight. Greg began to cringe, and right when he felt like his wrist will get crushed…

"Nomad. Stop that now. It is enough." Mixim commanded.

"Yes Mixim. I will stop." The man released his grip, but continued to glare at Greg.

Wallace suddenly realized what his bandaged comrade was doing.

_He's reading him…does that mean anything significant…_

The bandaged man broke his glare and spoke, "I am sorry that that had to happen, Gregory. It was…excessive, and please accept my apology. My name is Amst-aaf Clouts, but you may address me, as Nomad."

"O-o-okay." Greg was frightened, and he slowly backed away from Nomad. Nomad was still looking at Greg in the eyes but instead of a cold glare, it was a look of curiosity. The entire suite was silent with the unfolding drama.

"Wait, how did you know my…"

**KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK**

The violent knocking was followed by a harsh voice. "POLICE! OPEN THE DOOR, NOW!"

Jericho suddenly woke up, and started toe yell, "Oh shit brothas, it's the coppers! I've gotta hide my wee…" He then turned to Siegel and screamed at him.

"YOU ASSHOLE, WHY DID YOU SHOOT ME?"

"Because you were loud and you were annoying me with your shitty humor."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you get to shoot me!"

"Be grateful it wasn't a live round."

"Brotha, we'll settle this later."

They all turned to the door, and began preparing.

Siegel pulled out his Beretta and loaded it with a blue magazine.

Wallace pulled out a loaded Thompson submachine gun.

Mixim cocked his dual Glock-17's, and opened the windows.

Jericho retrieved his Mac-10 from the table.

Wallace yanked out a Remington 870 shotgun from his sleeve.

Greg got ready to throw some ball bearings.

Nomad stared at the door.

"Leave the room with your hands on your head, and you will be detained, unharmed." The voice on the other side of the door was clearly spoken with a bullhorn.

Mixim turned to Nomad.

"Nomad, about how many men are in the hallway outside of this suite?"

Nomad closed his eyes, and after a few seconds, he responded.

"Twenty. Ten are armed with shotguns, five are armed with pistols, and five are armed with assault rifles. They only have three handcuffs. They clearly do not want to take us alive."

"Well gentlemen, remember our team motto." Mixim spoke out loud.

Everyone except for Greg spoke simultaneously. "An attack on one, is an attack on all." Jericho added with an unnaturally high voice. "I think we took that quote from 'The Three Musketeers'."

**CRASH**

The door was violently broken down, and police officers immediately rushed into the room. Orders to drop their weapons were being screamed at them, and pretty soon, they were all in a situation of stalemate.

"What now?" Greg muttered to Wallace.

"Well, I can absorb all of their bullets. Not too sure about you guys." Wallace muttered with bitter humor.

"Thanks a lot."

Jericho, out of all common sense, laughed hard for a bit. This did provoke the cocking of the polices' weapons at him, but he didn't really mind. He just grinned.

"Check this shit out, brothas." Jericho stepped forward, and dropped his Mac-10. He then spread his arms out to the side.

The same thought struck everyone.

_Jericho, what are you doing?_

All the lights in the room suddenly turned off.

"Flashlights!"

And by the time the police officers had their flashlights out, everyone was gone.

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><p>The entire team was running down the streets of Shinagawa, and they ran until they turned and hid in a dark alleyway. The alley stank of garbage and cat urine, but it was a good hiding spot. For now.<p>

Wallace walked over and sat on an upside-down garbage can. Jericho tried to do the same with a right-side up garbage can and fell in. Greg was exhausted, and tried to catch his breath by breathing deeply.

"Holy crap dude, that was incredible! What was that?"

"My man, I only told those lights to go out. And they did."

Seeing that Jericho was giving a very bad explanation, Wallace explained instead.

"Jericho can control light and sound. He's a Holder."

"What's a 'Holder'?"

"I'll explain later." Wallace began to have a Chicago accent, which strangely wasn't so apparent before.

"Mixim, what are your orders?" Nomad asked, his bandages now rustled up from running.

Jericho was busy trying to get himself out of the garbage can, while Greg and Wallace were helping him out.

"It seems that it is imperative that we accelerate our original plans. I will be sending four of you to our clients immediately. Greg, Siegel, Wallace. Come here." The four of them walked over to Mixim, who quickly took a peek out of the alleyway.

"I would like the three of you to grasp onto my shoulders. On the count of three, I will transport you to our clients."

The three of them grabbed Mixim. And out of the three, two of them knew indefinitely what was going to happen. Greg didn't.

"Three." The air felt like it began to shake, and empty beer bottles left by teenagers on the ground began to crack.

"Two." Sparks filled the space around them, and the wretched stench of the alleyway began to dissipate.

"One." Right when the final word ended, Greg, Siegel, and Wallace found themselves at Synapse.

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><p>"Gentlemen. They made it." And right when he finished that sentence, Mixim collapsed.<p>

Jericho shook his head, and with a heave he carried Mixim on his shoulders.

Nomad touched Mixim on the forehead, and turned to Jericho.

"Mixim has exerted too much of his stamina to teleport three men. We must travel to our destination at once."

With a flick of his wrist, a map flew out of Mixim's breast pocket and it opened itself in midair. Just when he was about to read the map, a voice yelled at them.

"Get out of the alleyway with your hands up!"

It was a police officer. No doubt an ensign, only recently graduated from the Tokyo police academy.

"Oh, c'mon. Not again." Jericho just groaned.

Nomad started to walk towards the young officer, but not to surrender. But to look into the eyes of the first man he will kill in a decade.

"Move, child. And I will not harm you."

When the police officer didn't move aside, that was when Nomad lost his patience, which was a very rare occurrence.

He closed his eyes, and a supernatural event started to happen.

Nomad visualized every water molecule in the alleyway, in the buildings next to him, and in the sewage system. He willed a small mass of water to appear in from of him, and incredibly, it began to spin faster and faster. The echoes of the young police officer's gun firing did startle him; however the water flowed gently like a transparent snake, to stop the bullets from hitting him. As the bullets fell out of the levitating pool of water, Nomad opened his eyes. The water separated into smaller balls, and they unleashed themselves onto the poor officer.

They ripped and tore holes through the officer as they shot through him, and in an instant, the officer looked like he was the one that got obliterated with a shotgun.

As Nomad thanked the water for helping him, Jericho dumped Mixim into the trunk of a red punch buggy in front of the alley. He covered him with a tarp that was in the alleyway, and walked over to the driver's door.

"Yo, I'll try to jack this, so can you navigate?"

"Certainly."

Jericho pulled out a screwdriver, and as he began to hot-wire the buggy, he asked Nomad. "Yo, Nomad."

"Yes?"

"Where are we going anyways?"

Jericho closed the compartment under the driving wheel, and he motioned to Nomad to get in.

"You were not paying attention?"

Nomad sat in the passenger seat and strapped his seatbelt on.

"No, I was watchin' some dugongs."

Jericho retrieved Mixim from the trunk, and quite literally tossed him into the back seat. He got into the driver's seat where he pulled out what looked like a crab fork and shoved it into the ignition key. The engine began to roar, and then settled to a low hum.

Nomad pulled out the map and read the location that was written on it.

"It seems that we will be driving for a very long time."

"Why?"

"Because we will drive to a location called, 'Sorami-cho'."

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><p>Read and review! (I'm not like most people. I deeply care for my readers! [even though there may not be many of them...])<p> 


	5. Chapter 4: The Guest

Hi guys, it's me again. Sorry for not updating this fic for a VERY long time, but I had a lot of things to do during that time, and my life was just a total maelstrom. Chronic depression makes it hard to motivate myself in dark times like these.

I'm in my senior year in high school right now, so I've been even busier than last year. But rest assured, I have much more free time. Unfortunately, most of my free time is consumed by college apps. (Yes, I'm applying to college. I feel so old.)

For anybody who is actually reading this fic, I thank you. And for those who are new to this ride, I promise you that you will not be disappointed with what I have in store for you in the future. I took time for the following chapter to be partial plot, partial filler. So you do want to pay attention to some of the details, although I will rely on your imagination of various environments...

I came to the realization that describing anime/manga characters in wording is a wee bit difficult. (considering how some anime light novels turned out, jeezus) I mean, the original description of them is in the format of imagery, not syntax or vocabulary, so it's a little difficult. (It sounds like I'm making excuses here...oh well.)

A bit of a note on OC's in my opinion. I was really careful to not make a similar mistake that fellow fanfictioneers tend to do and accidentally make one of the characters into a complete Mary Sue. (For those of you who don't know what a Mary Sue is...please look it up.)

Anyways, here's the fourth chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sora no Otoshimono or any other works related to the original series other than this fic.

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><p><strong>"You're cursed with the worst kind of love that can exist! May I have mercy on your soul. Which I won't."<strong> - Siegel Crow

Chapter 4: Tomoki

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><p><em>The thick clouds parted, revealing a massive green field. The grass left not a single patch of earth exposed, and covered the entire land with a green carpet further than the eye can see. It looks like as if it were a solid ocean, with its many hills forming waves and textures on the ground, creating a strangely serene and mysterious landscape. <em>

"_Wake up. Please wake up!"_

_There was a young woman kneeling on the ground. She had long light blue hair that reached down to her waist. Her bangs covered her eyes, so her eyes were not visible. She was clad in a light white gown, and nothing else. If it weren't for the white feathery wings that sprouted from her back, she would have looked like an ordinary person._

_Daedalus kept on pushing a boy who was in front of her, lying still on the ground as if he were sleeping. He made slight groaning sounds, but otherwise, he was still as stone. His calm face gave Daedalus some level of content, but she was still trembling in fear._

_Finally giving up, she stood in defeat, and patted the boy on the head in a sense of false calmness. Then she screamed at him._

"_No, why won't you wake up? This isn't like before, how everything turned out alright! No, no, no!"_

_Tears began trickling out of her eyes, and she simply began to sob. The desperation she felt couldn't be expressed, only that she wanted to change it into a force for productivity. Her clenched fists rushed up to her face, and wiped her tears. The stains of the paths that her dried tears made remained like scars, but she didn't care._

"_Bad men are coming to take them. All I wanted to ask you was to protect my daughters but…I guess I can ask you to make them happy until it happens…Chaos might have a chance…I hope."_

_Daedalus started to weep and cry, as she knew that the men who were coming were literally the personification of evil. An incident she remembered which happened years ago reminded her of this every day._

_**What happened to their last target…nothing was left of her except for her eyes and left wing…he claimed he ate the rest of her…alive. I could have stopped the order but I didn't.**_

_As she clutched her head with one hand and lost her composure in her trembling fear, she pounded her fist against the ground in anger and frustration. There was so little to do to prevent this, much less stop it. And the only methods she could think of were too dangerous._

_She looked back to the boy who lay on the ground, and noticed that his body was beginning to flicker and fade, like white noise on a television screen._

_**Tomoki Sakurai…this might be my last goodbye…so goodbye.**_

_As Tomoki finally disappeared, Daedalus took a deep breath. She looked up at the deep blue sky above her, seemingly stretching into infinite. Closing her eyes and by letting the sounds of the surrounding clouds fill her ears, she felt a sense of peace._

"_All right, do you know what time is it?"_

_The unexpected voice caused Daedalus to rapidly turn around in surprise, only to be frozen in place with horror and fear as she saw who it was. The pain of his hands gripping her head wasn't felt, as it was overwhelmed by her shock that he pulled her out her Dive Game device._

"_It's time for you to wake up."_

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><p>Sorami-cho. It has a population of a little over 7000 people. Life is simple in this town, with the occasional festival and town events serving at the moments of excitement, but otherwise, a very simple town.<p>

Until recently, this town was much like this. But of recent events, this simplicity was disrupted. It all started with a boy, named Tomoki. Tomoki Sakurai.

Tomoki woke up, and he took a deep sigh. It was a fine Saturday morning, and it was the most peaceful moment he's ever felt in a long time. His black hair was ruffled, waving all over the place, only to be patted down by his youthful hands.

He rubbed the morning soreness from his eyes, and Tomoki changed into his regular outfit of tan shorts, and striped blue shirt. As he slid the door open and stepped into the hallway, the cold floor stung his feet while the warm summer air hit his face.

Tomoki Sakurai, a young teenage boy who used to live in a house by himself, just wanted a peaceful life. By all standards, he was just your average Japanese male teen. The only part that heavily distinguished him from nearly all teens of his age, was his extremely perverted tendencies, which was unmatched by anyone, except for his late grandfather.

He entered the living room, where he sat on a dark blue zabuton, which is a relatively flat pillow that was common for people to sit on. The waxed surface of the table in front of him reflected his face, his black hair still ruffled and jumbled from a rough night of sleep and odd dreams.

"Master, here is your tea." A pink haired girl, named Ikaros, walked into the living room, and set a cup of green tea on a round table. She was in the average height category in girls of her age. Or at least, girls who appeared to be the same age.

She was in fact, an ancient super weapon who was released from her confines in a land called Synapse a while before this storyline. To Tomoki, who or why she was released was not important. Sometimes, this mystery becomes a hinge in the door of trouble, and often times people get hit by that door as a result. Despite how he doesn't admit it though, he did enjoy her company.

And then of course, Nymph came along.

"Tomoki, where are the snacks? I can't find anything in the fridge, and I can't really touch Alpha's watermelons so…"

Nymph entered the room, or at least, now stood in the doorway of the living room entrance. She had thin pigtails that reached down to her waist, which had a lovely sky blue color to it. She wore a light green dress, complete with a blue skirt that she found in Tomoki's closet. Similarly to Ikaros, she also came from a land in the sky called Synapse. Why she decided to turn her back to the land that created her could be anyone's guess at a glance, but Tomoki, Ikaros, and their friends knew better.

"Um, didn't you eat all of them? I mean, you're the only one who eats them in the first place."

"Th-that's so not true! Delta stuffs her face with snacks all the time too!"

"Well Astraea's stupid, so she has an excuse."

Another blonde haired girl barged into the room, her mouth stuffed full with rice crackers and mushrooms that she recently 'obtained.'

"Hmph, hm fmuff fmud muh fmufuh? (Hey, who just called me stupid?)" Astraea's voice was muffled, due to the amount of food that had stuffed in her mouth.

"See, what did I tell you?"

For Astraea, a lot of what Nymph said is true. She may be a real beauty to look at, but she has the IQ of a 7 year old or potentially worse. But what she lacks in intelligence she makes up for with her…womanly aspects.

Astraea swallowed her food, and yelled at Nymph. "Nymph-senpai, that's not fair! You always ate the snacks and I always had to eat mushrooms!"

While this massive argument as to who eats the most was unfolding, Tomoki pushed his tea to the edge of the table and covered his head with his arms. His frightened body shrank, and he cuddled on the floor with a pecking triangular smile on his face, as he tried to ignore the increasing number of household projectiles being thrown by Nymph and Astraea.

_Around now something hits my head._

**Bonk!**

A wooden doll head hit Tomoki's head as Astraea threw it in frustration. Nymph picked up a tangerine on the table and threw it, only for it to end up hitting Tomoki's teacup, spilling hot tea all over his pants. He could feel the tea soaking through the fibers, and spreading through his cotton underwear. It lapped onto his skin, and that was when his body virtually jolted from both surprise and pain. And hot tea on your legs is fairly painful.

"ARRRRRGH!" Tomoki leaped into the air and rolled all over the floor, and he eventually came to a stop when he hit a wall.

_Why does this always happen to me.?_

"Master is hurt!" Ikaros immediately stood up, grabbed Tomoki, and threw him out of the living room. The tone of her voice immediately changed from that of gentleness, to that of a robotic and mechanical nature. "I must eliminate the source."

Ikaros' eyes turned from her natural green, into a bright dark pink. As her former casual clothes seemingly melted away and transformed into white mechanical body armor, pink wings erupted from her shoulders, nearly spanning across the entire room.

"Locating all enemy forces." The targeting system installed in her body locked onto the tea cup lying on the floor, with its contents of green tea all over the floor.

_Uh, oh._

Nymph and Astraea both ran out of the room, because they knew what would happen next.

"Firing Artemis." Ikaros armed and fired one of her primary weapon systems, Artemis, which was a guided cluster missile system. Of course, firing such a weapon indoors would have devastating results.

And in an instant, the living room was literally obliterated. As in, the only remnant was a burnt television, which sputtered and dimmed.

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><p>"All of you, get out! As in now, now, NOW!" Tomoki's anger overflowed when Ikaros destroyed his living room, and three angeloids flew away from the home as various household appliances were flung out of the front entrance.<p>

Once they were a safe distance away from the house, the three of them turned to each other.

"We just give him time to vent. He'll be back to normal by the time we come back."

"I hope it won't be so long." Ikaros looked worried, and she clutched her hand against her chest in concern.

"Who cares? Let's go to Sugata-senpai's place, maybe he might let us stay until then." Astraea said in a carefree manner, and sped ahead, flying towards a forest in the distance.

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><p><em>Three individuals…in the sky…one appears to have blue hair and translucent wings…another seems to have pink hair with pink colored feathery wings…the taller one has white wings and blonde hair?<em>

From a bench in the middle of a park, a man in a long trench coat was looking through a pair of binoculars at the sky. The shadow that his red fedora made in the sun covered his face, rendering it impossible to tell any details. But the black long sleeve shirt that he wore underneath and his blue jeans gave him a slightly suave appearance, in addition to his relatively good build. His combat boots dug into the ground as he observed the flying angeloids, focusing intently on their current location.

_Should be about good enough to halt._

He nodded his head slightly, and after putting his binoculars into a brown backpack next to him, he stood up and walked out of the park, chuckling to himself.

_Mr. Silver should be coming soon._

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><p>Read and Review!<p> 


	6. Chapter 5: Intrusions

Sup Everybody. I'm back.

I know that I haven't been posting chapters for like...a year.

For those of you who've known me, and stuck with reading what I write, I thank you. I truly do appreciate it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Sora no Otoshimono or any other works related to the original series other than this fic.

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><p>"<strong>But from time to time I have found that the senses deceive, and it is prudent never to trust completely those who have deceived us even once.<strong>" - Rene Descartes

Chapter 5: Intrusions

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><p>Teleporting for the first time wasn't easy.<p>

It felt a whirlpool of electrical particles suddenly tearing apart your body in all directions, swirling around you like a tornado. For Wallace who experienced this many times before, it wasn't very painful. But Greg felt like puking. And landing face-first on the ground didn't help at all.

Greg simultaneously gripped his stomach and mouth, and just rolled around in nausea and agony. "Ughhh. I feel, like throwing up. Urk!"

Wallace, with enough swag in his footsteps to fill an auditorium, walked over to the edge of the circular piece of floating land. "Hm. If is just me, or is it that we're a lot higher than the last time we were here. Oh wait,"

He looked back at Greg, who was helplessly trying to gain his composure, his red hair completely in scruffles as if it were an indicator of his discomfort.

"I'm the only veteran here. Jesus…" he finished his sentence, and walked over to help Greg up.

"You all right, newbie?"

"Uh, yeah. I'm just trying to hold my dinner in." Greg finally got up, and brushed his suit off. His face was a little red from landing on the chalk ground, but it wasn't too noticeable.

That was when Greg even began to remotely realize where he was. Or not exactly realize, but to be completely confused instead.

Greg has never seen such a landscape before. All above and below him was nothing but the clear blue sky, with the exception for a couple of clouds that floated by like herds of flying sheep. The ground at his feet was made of material that he's never seen before, having the color of bony chalk and with the appearance of airy bone, but with the consistency of iron. His shoes scraped against the hard ground, and he dwarfed the trees that grew out of circular streams that ran around the platform. But what stood in front of him was what invoked a cocktail of primal fear, with awe and a drop of the unknown.

It was a massive obelisk, both dark and light, and at least 40 meters high. It spanned wider than the thickest tree, and it was even more amazing that it didn't collapse under its own weight. There were words written in an unknown language, in a variety of writing styles. From each letter, it felt like it was written in pain, anguish, horror, terror, evil, love, compassion, mercy, happiness. The tower, even though it was dull, glowed in an odd manner. It felt like as if it were much more important than what it appeared to be.

"What is this place?" The words dashed from his lips like gas leaks from a canister, and Greg was simply in shock from this sudden introduction to an environment so alien to him. Beads of sweat running down his forehead gradually became streams, and it moistened his collar to the point where his blue undershirt became a much darker hue.

Wallace stepped forward, took a deep breath in, and sighed. "Newb, we're at Synapse." He casually looked around, and scratched his head.

"And wh-wh-where's that?" Greg tried to walk forward as well, but stumbled in the process.

"Approximately 10 kilometers above the country of Japan. No big deal." Wallace added the last bit with a hint of sarcasm.

Greg shook the sense of awe out of his mind, and he realized an even more disturbing truth. He rubbed his forehead, to get the sweat out of his eyes, and looked at his wristwatch.

_10:30PM_

_Assuming that what Wallace said is true, and that we're still in the area of Japan…why is it daytime here?_

"Hey Wallace, I've got a question." Greg nervously asked Wallace.

"Shoot."

"Why is…"

"Yeah I know. Siegel's probably been misteleported."

"Yeah. Wait, what." _That wasn't what I was trying to ask…._

But admittedly, Siegel was nowhere to be found. And considering that he was a lot more experienced at this compared to both Wallace and Greg, it was definitely a logistical issue.

"Should we find him?"

Wallace started walking away from the obelisk, and towards the edge of the circular floating land they were standing on.

"Siegel is fine on his own. C'mon, we should get going. We've gotta start walking to 'The Hall of the Lords'." He stopped right at the edge, the tips of his shoes already in midair. He impatiently turned around, and snarled at Greg

"'The hell are you waiting for? Let's get a move on."

"And how are we supposed to get down from this platform?" Greg retorted.

"Oh right, you're new at this. Here, this is what you do. Come over here." Wallace's face quickly transitioned from that of annoyance, to that of reassurance and understanding.

"Uh, okay." Greg walked over to where Wallace was, and leaned over the edge, just to have a good look at what was underneath.

He immediately wished that he hadn't done that.

He saw dozens of smaller platforms of land of varying sizes underneath him, some as large as football fields and others the size of entire islands. There were grey ones, green ones, even a dull brown one in the distance. And underneath all of that, were clouds.

"Careful now. Just do exactly as I say." Wallace kept a tight grip on Greg's shoulders.

_Maybe Mr. Roget was just over exaggerating about this guy. He's not that bad…_

"Sorry for not warning you, newbie." And Wallace pushed him off.

For a split second, Greg was shocked. The next, he was furious.

* * *

><p><em>Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid….<em>

He was free falling. And for a moment, he thought that he was going to die. His face pulled back as he was plummeting to the ground, and he closed his eyes, waiting for the eventless end.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING KID? OPEN YOUR EYES!"

Greg heard the voice, and looked to his left. Wallace was freefalling right next to him, and he was rummaging in his bowler hat. He was struggling to pull something out, and by the time he did, they had already traveled more than a hundred meters.

"PUT THIS ON!" Wallace handed a blue pack to Greg, while strapping on an identical one. The synthetic polymer that layered the pack glistened with the moisture in the surrounding air, and the droplets fell upwards as the two of them fell.

"WHAT IS THIS?" Greg shouted back, while struggling to pull the straps on and clip the clips together. The wet straps clumped together, and the clips were too determined to not move easily.

"IT'S A PARACHUTE!" Wallace did a flip in midair, and pulled a red tag sticking out the pack. A massive wine red parachute unfurled, and significantly slowed him down.

_Why didn't this guy just…._

As he pulled his own parachute tag, he was suddenly lifted into the air. Of course, this was just the general feeling. He knew that his descent was just slowed down, and it merely felt like being lifted up.

"FOLLOW ME!" Wallace shouted, and pointed toward a platform with trees growing out of it.

* * *

><p>After many broken branches, the two landed on the platform. Greg shed his parachute, and promptly walked past Wallace. He struggled to push through the various shrubbery, and tree branches just waving in their way.<p>

"How's that for a jump, newbie?" Wallace hacked away at the branches with a machete, and started jumping across from one branch to another as a much more efficient method of traveling.

"I hate you." Greg tripped on an overgrown root, and swore.

"Aw, hell. Jericho said that on his first try, too." Wallace chortled, and kept on hopping from one branch to another.

Wallace brushed leaves off of himself as he left the forest, while Greg literally rolled out the bushes, covered in dirt and pieces of branches.

"What? People live here?"

Greg found himself in the middle of a town. Houses that looked like they would be in real estate housing magazines were lined up, looking fairly confortable to live in but they looked uncomfortably crammed together. The streets, echoing only with Greg's heavy breathing and Wallace's footsteps, were panned with rectangular slating, running in a straight line. There were other structures lined next to the streets, such as small fruit shops with a plethora of various produce.

"Nothing lives here." Wallace plucked a green apple off of a fruit stand, and rubbed it on his chest. When he looked back, a new apple materialized on the stand like a digital display.

"Then what are these houses for?"

Wallace took a bite out of his apple, the spare juices trickling down his chin. He then turned around to face Greg. "Tell me newbie." Wallace dropped the apple and kicked it at a house next to him, breaking the windows. "Do I look like Wikipedia?"

"Sorry, I though you knew."

"I don't." He turned around to keep on walking, but stopped dead in his tracks. Not because he lost his way, but because of what was floating in front of him, only a couple of meters away.

* * *

><p>Two figures were floating in front of Wallace, both of whom were beautiful, in a mean way. They both sneered at Wallace, looking down on him with amber eyes as if he were an insignificant insect. One had an arm-cannon aimed at him, while the other had her arms crossed. One had green hair barely reaching past her ears, while the other had hashed-brown hair in an identical hairstyle. Triangular mechanical objects stuck through their hair, with the appearance of cat-ears. Clothed in black and white techno-futuristic clothing over most of their body, they were poised and ready to fight, albeit in a taunting manner. They were the Harpy Angeloids, the Guardians of Synapse.<p>

"You know sister, vandalism is a punishable crime in Synapse." The one with green hair chuckled, and fluttered her wings, which were relatively small compared to her body size.

"So is intrusion." The brown haired one tightened her grip on her arm-cannon, Prometheus. It whined and whirred as it charged up, and short beams of energy gathered at the tip of the cannon to form a small ball.

Greg was astounded. He felt like he was practically tromping all across heaven, especially since two angels just appeared in front of him.

"Ladies, please." Wallace held his palms towards the Harpies in a gesture of peace.

"We were sent here on your master's request. There's no need to fight. Just help us get to The Hall of the Lords, and we can be both on our merry ways. M'kay?"

His voice was completely different from his usual thick Chicago accent. It was smoother, every word flowing with the previous one, dripping with a seductive tone. Admittedly, this voice was very sexy.

_This guy's a serious lady-killer._

The green haired Harpy sneered, and flew down to face Wallace, confident because her companion unit has a lock on Wallace. "Nice try, but we don't trust Downers."

Wallace gave a gentle grin, and tries to caress the Harpy's face, only to wave his hand back at the last second. "I see. Well, that's a shame. Since we don't want to waste each other time. But, why don't you be a dear and let us through then, hm?" By the time he finished his sentence, his lips were right next to the Harpy's head, and his voice was lowered to that of a whisper.

The green haired Harpy felt nothing other than a sense of tranquility and a mellow feeling rising in her chest, as if her chest constricted her heart. No matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't go away. She blushed, and she couldn't help but look away from Wallace out of embarrassment.

Everyone else noticed that something was definitely out of place. Wallace and the green Harpy was standing with each other as if they were long-lost lovers, when they were bearing fangs at each others' necks only moments ago.

The green Harpy stepped away from Wallace. While she fidgeted her clawed feet and fiddled around with her fingers in a display of shyness completely unlike her, she mumbled for a bit. After a few seconds, she looked back at Wallace.

"Well, I'll guide you…b-but not because I want to. J-Just because you asked." The green haired Harpy flew back to her sister. But in an unexpected move, as if she was forced out of some kind of a spell, she spun around and pointed her Prometheus arm-cannon at Wallace.

"You slimly little downer! How dare you try to seduce me!" The Harpy's face, still flushed with the momentary exhilaration from Wallace, showed that not all of his effects had worn off. Yet.

Wallace leaned over to Greg.

"Aw, hell. It was worth a shot." Wallace chuckled and slapped Greg on the back, not even remotely considering the situation that they were in.

Greg nervously laughed, while arcing his eyebrows with an oddly apologetic tension. "You've gotta teach me how to do that." His eyes leaned off away from Wallace, in self-musing.

_As much as I think you're a date rapist._

"Trick of the trade, newbie. Trick of the trade." Wallace took his hat off, and rubbed his head for a bit. His spider-like hands ran across the tattoos on his scalp, and when he let his fingers dangle a bit…

CLICK

The unmistakable whirring sound of the Prometheus cannon penetrated Wallace's ears, and he simply just stared at it without a care in the world. The white metal encasing the barrel gleamed in the sunlight, glowing red with the building of energy. Better yet, it was pointed straight at his head.

"Just die!" The Harpy, getting revenge for her previous seduction, unleashed a burst of energy right into Wallace. The latter didn't even have time to dodge.

It shot Greg's heart with a bolt of terror, as he saw the cannon fire right into Wallace's head. Or specifically speaking, it just fired right into his face. Wallace was sent flying backward through several houses, destroying at least four of them in the process. Dust choked the air, and only the sounds of crumbling stone and blocks shocked through the clogged air. Blood stained the rubble, and as he was projected into the last house, it collapsed on top of him.

_There's no way that any person could have survived that…not even Wallace._

Greg felt an unnatural chill down his spine, as if an ice-cold worm wriggled through his bones and crept out of his skin.. If he became the only person against the Harpies, who knew what they would…

"All right. You're next." The brown haired Harpy flew to Greg, and pushed one of her clawed fingers into his cheek. He winced as the Harpy's claw drew a line of ichor across his face, her talon slowly scratching his skin.

She grinned as she watched Greg suffer, and placed her other hand around his neck. His fists clenched, and right before the Harpy's claws were about to crush his throat, a voice shouted out from behind the two of them.

"Yeah. I'm gonna get a little pissed off if you kill my teammates, so you know, if you let go of him, I won't blow your sister's head off."

The brown haired Harpy's head turned to face a polka dotted alien in a suit holding a gun at the temple of her companion unit's head. The alien's grin was accompanied by nothing on his face; he had no eyes, no nose, and no ears. Just his lipless grin, eerily curved at its edges, like the crescent of the moon in a dimly lit night. Siegel pulled the hammer back on his Beretta, and snickered as it locked into place. He was casually leaning against the green haired Harpy with an arm around her shoulder, jamming the barrel of his against her head.

"Yup, there's a high explosive round loaded into this baby right here. I'm experienced enough to know that normal hollow-points won't do jack against your thick skulls. But if this goes off, it's going to cave your sister's head in."

The brown haired Harpy's lips curled. She unwillingly but wisely, let go of Greg. Greg stumbled onto the ground, all of this new knowledge simply overwhelming his inexperienced mind.

* * *

><p>"You all right, Greg?"<p>

Greg scratched his ear, and wiped his perspiring forehead with his sleeve. "Yeah, thanks. But I can't really say the same for…" He turned to where Wallace got buried under a house, and shook his head.

But then, the rubble shook. Pebbles hopped along the ground like jumping beans, large metal piping being flung away from the remnant of the destroyed house, narrowly missing Siegel's head. A large demolished wall on top of the small pile of broken rubble flew sideways and crashed into the surrounding greenery, with an accompanying symphony of shattered pottery following suit. The shadowy silhouette of a man was visible through the dusty air, followed by the popping and cracking of joints as the figure fixed his dislocated arms and shoulder. Lofting away like the curtains of an invisible stage, it revealed Wallace, who was still submerged in the rubble up to his waist.

He legged out of the broken wreckage of the house, with his three-piece suit's coat completely torn and ripped to pieces. There was no evidence that he was ever shot in the face, just some mild bruises scattered across his face where he collided against furniture inside the houses. But the snarl on his face sent waves upon waves of terror through Greg's outer body, and chilled him to his heart. He had never seen Wallace be so hateful and terrifying. He could only feel that no man or machine could get in the way of this unstoppable monstrosity without the fear of being obliterated.

Wallace dramatically threw his ruined pinstriped purple suit off, and stomped down the pile that used to be the house that he got buried under. He reached down with a swooping motion, and plucked his dirt-stained dark green bowler hat off the ground. After jamming it on his head with knuckled fingers, he glanced at the green haired Harpy with golden eyes filled with molten rage. The tattoos on his head seemed to riffle and dance like the shadows of a fire, the veins in his arms coruscating like bolts of lightning. Every pulse of blood that traveled through him made his body quiver in frequencies of bottled up brutality to come.

"Unleash, Tier 4."

His silent, but bellowing voice shook even Siegel down to his core. Wallace's voice resonated at the end of his sentence with a deep bass, as if his gut and chest suddenly became the ribs of a drum and his diaphragm the oscillating leather. The dust that once gathered at his feet spread away from him, slowly at first, but they slowly gained velocity and flew away, making a circumference of vacancy around his body. Trees swung backward from the force that was suddenly unleashed from Wallace, and they gradually leaned back into position. Bushes shook, windows cracked, and small pebbles rolled away from Wallace, ignoring all laws of gravity that were normally obeyed, even on Synapse.

The green Harpy's hair flitted back in response to the sudden shockwave released from her seducer. She attempted to observe Wallace's actions further, but she was gradually forced to cover her eyes, in order to avoid having dust in them. But she felt a pebble that was flying away from him strike her shin armor, and she knew that she had to act fast before…

CRUNCH

Like a blooming orchid of pain, she felt a force similar to a cannon go through her gut. But her senses merely deceived her, and it took all of her resistance and tolerance to even stay on her feet from the excruciating pain of having her abdominal organs be completely obliterated from one strike.

Astounded, Greg's jaw dropped. He could barely see Wallace dash like a mad bear, creating a billowing circle of dust being him. It was even harder for Greg witness how Wallace disengaged the Harpy's Prometheus cannon by using his left hand to slap it aside and immediately following with his right fist to deliver a right hook straight to the Harpy's stomach.

The Harpy only barely registered what even happened when Wallace pulled off his next move. Quickly taking advantage of her disoriented state, he spun around her left side, and grabbed the back of her head with his dirt-stained hands. He clenched her green hair in between his fingers, and he could feel her smooth scalp beneath her hair. With a force of a jackhammer, he pushed the Harpy's face into the ground, and relentlessly kept on bashing her head into the ground. After a while, he lost count on how many times he bashed her head and just kept on going, beyond the point where it made a small dent on the surface of the formerly polished white street, staining the tiles with streams and spatters of the Harpy's blood.

Saliva flew from his mouth as he seethed his teeth in an uncontrolled berserker's fury, and he didn't realize how much damage he caused to the Harpy until he released her head, and kicked her left breast as she tried to stand back up on her knees. With an unearthly roar, he clenched his hand into a fist, and he punched the Harpy in the face with an upper cut that was backed with enough force to elevate her for a couple of seconds.

For a moment she floated, but then crashed back to the ground like an angel falling from grace.

Wallace unleashed a blood-churning roar, and then glared at his fallen opponent. His mouth seethed with anger and spittle flew out as he screamed at the Harpy.

"C'mon bitch! IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?"

Greg walked over to Siegel, the latter of whom was struggling to keep the brown haired Harpy under control.

"Why is Wallace suddenly so strong?"

"It's because- argh, stop squirming you little – it's because he's in Tier 4. I'll explain later, just help me hold this one down."

Greg nodded, and threw his weight on the brown Harpy's arm, when he noticed her eyes. Her golden eyes stared back into him, not with puppy eyes or with a menacing shot, but with quivering eyes of fear and desperation. All of their former hostility was lost in that moment, and Greg realized.

_These things that I've been sent to kill…they're not heartless machines, they have emotions like us…._

He looked away from her, and he looked at Wallace.

The scar-eyed mercenary was sitting on top of his prey, using his victim's breasts as cushions while pinning her arms down with his knees. His clenched fists swung rapidly downwards, one after another, raising and pummeling downwards again. He kept on beating the Harpy, even though it didn't take any form of common sense that she no longer had any will or intention to fight her adversary any more. Blood trickled out of nearly every orifice on her face; a seeping scar of blood out of her mouth, a trail of it trickling out of her ears, and droplets racing out of the corners of her eyes. Her cheeks were already bruised from the sheer brute force of Wallace's punches, and her hands were already lying on the ground, completely lax and motionless.

"Let me show you, what pain really is."

Wallace stood up, and rolled the Harpy over. He took her left arm, and while pressing his knee against her back, he yanked it upwards. His hands, encased around the Harpy's wrist like the gripping maws of an iron vice, proceeded to squeeze. It didn't take too long until her exoskeleton armor shattered, and he proceeded to crush her arm when Siegel put his hand on Wallace's shoulder.

"That's enough, Heckler. We don't want to kill their messengers." Siegel added a wink after that.

Wallace just grinned, and stood up.

"So, I hope you're going to come to your senses and just take us to where you master is."

Siegel eerily smiled.

* * *

><p>The Hall of the Lords seemed like it stretched. Although it looked like the Parthenon from the outside, the inside seemed to extend backwards. But this was just an illusion. The one who made it a long time ago, forever forgotten but still known as the Architect, designed it so that the Masters would sit in the center, along a long table where their supported leader, a tall long haired blonde figure with the appearance of an angel, could sit in comfort. This was only for dining occasions though. In most cases, he sat in a private quarter, where the inside fo the Hall of the Lords reconstructed itself to his whim, shifting and morphing ot his needs, within reasonable parameters.<p>

The inside rang like an unholy bell, sounding both angelic and terrifying at the same time, poisoned with the breath and encore of angels singing to delight a master who never shared the same feeling towards them. A mix of desperation and love blinded by obsession drove the voices.

The Master, still feeling a bit of anxiety from his previous encounter with Mixim, lay back in his comforts, surrounded by angeloid constructs whose beauty would have been considered to be that of divas by normal human standards. But for the Sky Master, these angeloids were nothing to him. Just toys, ready to be played with, always disposable, and ever replaceable.

His elbow sank into the armrest of his obnoxiously cushioned throne, covered by a layer of cloth that warded away sunlight from his face like a snake does to a dove. The toga that covered his body revealed the sternum of his chest, outlining his muscular yet slender build. His blonde bangs covered his eyes, making his face not completely visible and only his nose and his mouth could be truly seen.

"Where are the Gammas? They're late."

He impatiently tapped his finger on the armrest, gradually making a light indentation in the rifts of the cloth before it was straightened out by an angeloid sitting next to him.

"Should we go fetch them? Maybe they're just playing around."

"No. Let them be late. That'll give me some reason to punish them." He grinned in relish at the thoughts of what kinds of harm he could inflict upon the Harpies. Had he only known earlier of their encounter with…

"I'd apologize since we're late, but your escorts really hesitated from bringing us here. Tsk tsk. That's a really poor way to start a meeting."

The foreign voice that penetrated the eerie serene atmosphere of the Hall of the Lords laughed after completing his sentence. It was quickly followed by the Harpies being thrown to the feet of the Sky Master, their broken and stained armor skittering against the marble polished floor.

Siegel stepped into the Hall of the Lords dusted his hands off, clearly indicating that he threw the Harpies. The shifting polka dots on his face and hands were moving slowly, rearranging themselves into different sizes as they moved along like black critters on the paint of white metal.

"Sorry 'bout your gals, flapper boy. But they just don't take no for an answer." The second voice, rough with an accent of a tommy gun, stepped into the hall. He didn't even hesitate for a moment to pull out a fifty-caliber handgun out of his slacks pocket and pull the trigger, the resulting explosive gunshot indicating for all unnecessary individuals to leave. Needless to say, the entertainment purpose angeloids departed quickly, reducing the Sky Masters former entourage to nobody.

"This place…is huge." The comparatively inexperienced voice belonged to Greg.

"So, Mr. Sky Master. What's this time's pay? Because, you know, last time's pay was horrible. I mean, seriously." Siegel practically jogged up to the Sky Master and put his arm around the latter's shoulder, as if they were complete buddies.

"You thought that a meager pay for that last one in Ireland was worth only a couple hundred thousand credits? You know very well that I can't exchange that for very much."

The Sky Master shrugged Siegel away and glared at him with a smile, and completely waffled the latter's question.

"I must congratulate you on defeating my personal guard. I can assure you that they will be…punished for their incompetence." He looked down at the Harpies in relish, just imagining what he could do to them. They were still lying on the ground, the brown haired one supporting her companion unit, as the green haired one wasn't capable of even standing on her own with the degree of her injury. But Siegel interjected.

"Well, you can't really blame them. After all, they were only doing their duty as guardians. And I have to give you some credit too. They actually lasted longer than a quarter of a minute! That's a record compared to last time." Siegel mockingly laughed.

The Sky Master, for the first time in a long time, rose from his throne without the company of his servants, and with an oddly elevated sense of pride stood in front of Siegel.

"You're going to wish that you've kept your smart mouth shut, extraterrestrial. We'll pay you well, but that was already discussed with your leader. Now leave, before I…"

"Actually, we already know that you talked about our payment with Mixim. We're just here to collect the first half, just to be sure that you're not trying to screw us over like last time. Beside, what are you going to do about it? Send another one of your flying pieces of garbage at us?" Siegel spread his arms to the side in a false personal glory, making a T with his body. The air currents passing under his arms made his sleeves flap and flutter like a the shafts of an air conditioner, the hem of his suit rippling like the edges of a parted curtain.

The Sky Master stood silently for a moment. But then he laughed. "If you have not noticed yet, look behind you."

Siegel looked around, and gasped in mock surprise that the brown haired Harpy that was once lying down near the throne had her hands wrapped around Greg's neck. Even though Greg had a height advantage, she was still a very deadly adversary for him.

"Eh, Greg? You would probably want to deal with her before she kills you."

Greg responded, albeit with a great deal of difficulty due to being choked.

"Egh na em eing. (I know I'm trying.)" Greg reached into his pocket, and pulled out three ball bearings. After rolling them in the palm of his left hand for a moment, he plucked one out and pinched it between the curve of his bent index finger and the surface of his thumb's nail.

With a burst of speed, he fired all three balls in succession, watching all three as they left his hand at the speed of a bullet and race to the end of the Hall.

"Ha! You Downers think that you can even scratch my constructs with a ball? What a pathetic…" What happen later, made the Sky Master eat his own words.

The ball bearings suddenly began to curve in their movement trajectory, as if they were slowly traveling in a vertical parabola. They turned around and accelerated, moving even faster than before, and they approached Greg's assailant rapidly. The brown haired Harpy was so distracted by her master mocking her victim, that she didn't notice the ball bearings until they smashed into her ribs, indefinitely breaking them as the balls hit with the force of a shotgun blast.

The Harpy flew away from Greg, not with her wings, but with the sheer impact force of the ball bearings sending her sailing into a pillar. As she slid down and slumped against the ground, a spider web of cracks was left behind on the pillar.

"Ouch…that looked painful." Siegel smirked and rotated his head, just so that he can make a taunting chuckle at the Sky Master. "So. How about you give us the money now and we won't need to cut up the shots. Hm?"

The Sky Master reluctantly snapped his fingers, and a small cube appeared in front of him. It rotated in midair and with a light flash, the lid opened. Inside were six coins, each approximately an inch thick.

"There, 6 million credits. There is one million for each of your team members. Now LEAVE!"

The Sky Master angrily turned to the Harpies, and barked an order at them.

"Open a portal for these 'gentlemen.' Now!"

The green haired Harpy, who struggled to crawl to a large electronic panel next to master's throne. It whirred to life, detecting the Harpy's approach, completely oblivious to her health condition. The Harpy tried to push a button, but her hand slipped as soon at it touched the panel, and it fell clumsily to the hard floor. Tears rolled down her face, and she bit back her breath, not wanting to show such a shameful face towards her mas…

"Didn't I just tell you, to OPEN THE PORTAL?" The Sky Master, striding towards the helpless green Harpies with irritation and frustration itching from his intonation, uncharacteristically screamed at the Harpy. He stopped right next to her, and placed his foot on her head. His muscled flickered from embarrassment and anger, he ground the sole of his sandal into the Harpy's head, feeling her soft hair being smashed underneath it.

The Harpy closed her eyes, and she curled up, unable to do anything but try to meekly defend herself from her master's wrath. Just when the Sky Master was about to kick her head though, a voice pierced through the air like a cold blade, slicing through the chaos and shearing a path of silence.

"You kick 'r 'gain, you die."

The Sky Master's foot stopped, and he could only hold back his breath as a silver pistol was pressed tightly against the temple of his forehead. Simultaneously, a razor blade was resting like a tight wire in front of his throat. Wallace Heckler's arctic chilling tone only made the blade seem sharper than it was, and he continued.

"She's mine. If she dies, I'm the one to do her in. Not you." The gun was lifted, and the blade retreated. The Sky Master rubbed his throat, and took a few steps backward, away from Wallace. Wallace treads towards the green haired Harpy, and helped her to her feet.

"You 'right, miss?" Wallace parted the green Harpy's hair, and smiled. It was unclear whether the smile was genuine or not, but the Harpy felt…safe. She felt like there was something in the world that could truly protect her, not from any enemy, but from herself. She was so lost in her maelstrom of emotions, that she never felt Wallace's hand grip her head and smash her face against a pillar.

Wallace, who never batted an eye during the entire ordeal, and walked over to the panel. After he proceeded to push some buttons, the air right next to the panel crackled with massive amounts of electricity. It was, by no doubt, an enormous amount of energy being generated. But it felt ancient and modern, as if it transcended beyond time itself.

A purple portal shocked open where the air was crackling, and Siegel, while motioning to Greg to follow along, patted Wallace on the back.

"Next time, maybe you could show some self-restraint?" Siegel shot a look of slight disapproval at Wallace, the latter not even turning around.

"Fine." Wallace gritted his teeth, and hopped through the portal. He vanished as the velvet of dark energy swallowed his body, and his entire body passed through.

"Where is this going?" Greg asked Siegel.

"Just follow Wallace, Greg. Don't worry, it should be safe." Siegel grinned, and encouraged Greg. The latter, with little hesitation, jumped through the portal as well.

* * *

><p>Now, Siegel was alone with the Sky Master. His entire body vibrated and outlined with a shimmer for a moment, and then he rotated his neck so that only a part of his face was visible to the Sky Master. He didn't fully turn around of course; he had enough dignity to show no respect to the Sky Master. He grinned, and the dark spots on his skin shifted positions yet again.<p>

The Sky Master attempted to utter threatening words. "You are nothing but mercenaries to us. I am confident that you are aware of what will happen if you fail to eliminate..."

"Shut up." Siegel turned around, and calmly walked towards the Sky Master, never breaking eye-contact. Siegel then slowly extracted his Beretta from his coat pocket, and aimed it straight at the Sky Master. "I'll get the job done. But keep your feathery nose out of my business, you got me?"

The Harpies, both on the floor, simultaneously had the same thought.

_Master is in danger!_

But as the Harpies tried to move their bodies, they couldn't. It was as if all of their strings were just cut. None of their internal skeletal mechanisms moved, it just froze up on them.

Siegel laughed, and as he did, he swung his arm down wards, simultaneously revealing a sword that wasn't previously visible to the Harpies or the Sky master, as it was blocked by Siegel's back. It was a falchion with an iron black blade, a triangular guard made of silver and steel, with a jet grey crystal jutting out of the bottom of the guard. The tip of the blade had dug into the floor from the force of the initial downward swing, biting through the tiles and breaking them into several pieces.

"Really. And I expected your 'wings of glory' to help." Siegel drew his blade out of the floor, and sheathed it under his coat, where the blade disappeared. "You should really just break these pieces of trash. Just send them down incinerator alley, if you get what I mean."

Siegel laughed again, and partially stepped through the portal. But just when he was about to pass through, he shouted at the Sky Master in mock plea.

"Oh, and send Daedalus my regards, if you would so kindly."

And Siegel Crow stepped through the portal, where it thundered and twisted shut behind him.

* * *

><p>Read and Review!<p> 


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